


Before I Knew I Had Begun

by aspiringtoeloquence



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringtoeloquence/pseuds/aspiringtoeloquence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being there for your best friend when she meets someone new is important. Which is why Kurt is here for Mercedes and Sam, even if Sam’s best friend is a little much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Knew I Had Begun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Januarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarium/gifts).



> Written for [januarium](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarium/) for the [todaydreambelievers gift fic exchange 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TodaydreambelieversGiftExchange2016). I tried to hit all three prompts at least a little, and I hope you like it (and that it was worth the wait)! Thank you to my wonderful beta, [idoltina](http://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina) , who not only makes me think-through and improve my writing, but also patiently listens to me complain AND fixes my glaring errors. Additional thanks to [sugarsgonesour](http://www.sugarsgonesour.tumblr.com) for the additional eyes/feedback. And thank you to the mods for the extension. I appreciate you all! 
> 
> Original prompt: "Kurt and Blaine keep being dragged places by Mercedes and Sam who are dancing around the fact that they are into each other. They see each other at lots of different places but can't talk too much before one of their friends drags them away to analyse everything about the situation. They get to know each other in bits and pieces, until finally they exchange some sort of contact info (phone nos? Snapchat names? something else?) and start to really get to know and like each other."

They are tucked into a booth of a tiny restaurant four blocks from the Conde Nast buildings, and Kurt has about twenty minutes before he needs to be back in the office to prep a conference room for a last minute layout design meeting. He has to make sure that iPads are charged, coffee is brewed, and air conditioning is functioning again.

The glamorous work of a vogue.com intern is never done.

“So I took the kids to the park,” Mercedes finishes, taking a long sip from her cup to punctuate her point. “And while we were at the playground I was chasing Grey around –”

“I hope his mother raided that kid’s gummy bear supply.”

“She did.” Mercedes shrugs. “Kid’s naturally bouncy.”

“Luckily he and his brother have a nanny who can keep up.” 

Mercedes primps her hair with a depreciating laugh. “So G runs off – of course I go after him, and then he runs right into this guy –”

“A cute guy?”

Mercedes’ pause is telling. “He’s okay.” 

Kurt glances up at the look on Mercedes’ face with a mouthful of extra-cheese pizza and knows she is _screwed_.

After a brief description, Mercedes gets to the pertinent details. “He did say he has a friend at NYU who has a show tonight. He invited me – us, he said I should bring whoever I want.”

He feels a buzz in his pocket and glances at his phone to see that Shaya has sent an email. This isn’t surprising. Shaya is an excitable associate features editor whose every thought manifests as an email. “Sorry, I – what time is the show? I’ll probably be working late tonight.”

“Eight, but there’s an afterparty at his friend’s apartment.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Okay-guy invited you to an afterparty?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mercedes warns, and there’s something in the way she smiles that Kurt hasn’t seen for a while. “He seems nice.” 

“I’m just checking that this is an actual party, one that isn’t followed by the phrase ‘in my pants’.”  
Mercedes rolls her eyes and throws a french fry at him.

*

He gets a text from Mercedes around nine-thirty telling him that the show was good and he doesn’t need to hurry over; she’ll meet him at the party. Apparently one of Sam’s friends goes to her church, so she’s got backup and they’ve all gone over to the party together. Kurt takes a few minutes in the restroom to fix his hair, leaves his coat and scarf hanging in the closet at Vogue so he doesn’t have to carry them, and heads to an address not far from the NYU campus. He spends the subway ride responding to Rachel’s increasingly annoyed texts from a last minute rehearsal.

He half expects to find some kind of college debauchery when he’s buzzed up to a tiny Manhattan apartment. Instead, he is almost instantly reminded that he’s partying with musical theater kids; he find that the source of the shrieking he heard from the hallway is a game of ‘Heads Up’ being played with the aid of red solo cups and significant amounts of liquor. He’s introduced to about two thirds of the circle, and he repeats the names to himself: _Tina, Kitty, Marley, Unique, Sam, and Mike_. He sits between Mercedes and a girl he thinks might be Marley.

Within the first five minutes Kurt has realized three things:

#1: Sam – who seems like a good guy, if a little overly enthusiastic for Kurt’s taste – is totally into Mercedes. 

#2: Sam’s best friend is totally in love with Sam.

#3, corollary to #2: Sam’s friend is also pretty obnoxious. 

His name is Blaine, and apparently he’s the NYU student who introduced Sam to Marley, Kitty, and Mike. Everyone else knows each other through a slew of connections Kurt doesn’t quite bother to track (Tina is dating Mike and goes to Brown, Kurt thinks Ryder is dating... someone? And they’re in the apartment that Kitty, Unique, and Marley share). 

Kurt has nothing against the guy at first. Actually, he’s pretty cute in a slightly tousled, preppy kind of way. Blaine keeps giving really good clues before Kurt can speak up, which he finds a little annoying, but after he’s finished his first cup Kurt decides to be generous and forgive Blaine Anderson his eagerness. If applied to the right areas, it might even be charming.

Kurt’s a little distracted during the next round, working on his second and third cups, which is the only thing that can possibly explain what happens next. 

He has the phone up to his forehead, and everyone is talking about clowns. 

“Lippa’s Wild Party,” he says with confidence. Take that, Blaine Anderson.

The entire circle groans at him as the timer goes off.

He immediately feels a flash of annoyance when Blaine pipes in with the answer and some comment about not everyone being a Sondheim fan.

How _DARE_ he. 

It’s a careless mistake, one he wouldn’t have made if he hadn’t been up since 5am helping Isabelle make arrangements for the Vogue.com 10-Year Gala. He’s a Sondheim expert.

(Later, Marley has to talk him out of challenging Blaine know-it-all Anderson to a Sondheim lyric face-off.) 

He has a good time, though, in spite of Blaine Anderson. He exchanges numbers with a couple of people and promises to see a couple of shows over the next few months. 

Later, as Mercedes gets him settled in on her roommate’s tiny futon for the night (or really, the few hours left until morning), they exchange a few distracted comments. Mercedes is overly casual about Sam, and then she asks him if he thought any of the guys were cute. “You met Sam’s best friend, right?” she adds, taking out an earring in the bathroom while he’s sitting on the made-up futon. “Sam says he’s single.” 

Mercedes had been flirting with Sam for a good portion of the night, so she’d probably missed out on how annoying Blaine was. Kurt is happy to enlighten her. 

“...and he implied that I didn’t even know the song! Can you believe it? Okay, bowtie guy –” (the bowtie was pretty cute, but Kurt is _making a point._ ), “...let’s see you belt out ‘Being Alive’ in front of Carmen Tibedeaux.”

“All I’m saying is, he seemed sweet when I met him after his show. He’s a cutie.” 

Kurt scoffs, losing his balance a little as he shakes his head. A nice ass (or good taste in pants) does not a dazzling personality make. “You should sleep. You have to be up early.”

Mercedes’ phone vibrates, then, and they spend the rest of the night analyzing the tone of Sam’s goodnight text.

Emojis, Kurt contends, are a good sign.

*

He scrolls through Facebook on his phone while coffee is brewing the next morning, and the icon tells him he has new friend requests. He accepted Marley, Unique, and Kitty last night, as well as a couple of other people, so he isn’t expecting anyone in particular. There’s a request from the girl from his Theater of Cruelty class, who he had talked to last week about studying with for the midterm, and –

He pauses with his hand on the handle of a particularly large green mug. 

Blaine Anderson has added him on Facebook.

The coffee machine clicks off, and he considers the waiting request, Blaine’s profile picture looking at him with irrationally irritating sincerity.

Rachel makes a noise, probably knocking over a bottle in the bathroom, and Kurt jumps a little. He decides to leave it for later, pouring his cup of coffee and scrolling to watch a friend from his History of Costuming class last semester arguing the benefits of coconut oil on a mutual friend’s status.

*

“What about that cutie from the mailroom?” Mercedes offers. “The one who winked at you that one time?”

Isabelle asked Kurt on Monday morning who he was bringing as his date to the gala and had waved off his protests that he should be working the event to make sure everything ran smoothly. Kurt is using his lunch date with Mercedes to voice some of his feelings of panic. The cute guy that Mercedes is referring to turned out to be dating someone from accounting, but Kurt doesn’t feel the need to go into that, so he changes the subject. “Can’t I just bring you? Or Rachel? Or Elliot?” 

“Maybe if you hadn’t already invited us all,” she reminds him.

He’d convinced Isabelle to get several of his friends in under the guise of them volunteering for setup (they would likely be helping him once setup began in earnest, anyway). Elliot would be out of town for a cousin’s wedding, but Rachel and Mercedes had agreed. “I could go with one of you. Or I could invite someone else. I have friends.” 

Kurt doesn’t have _time_ for a boyfriend anyway. He has a plan. In fact he has one year, three year, and five year plans, as well as a backup in case one of those plans doesn’t work. None of those plans necessitate a man in his life. These plans _do_ involve cultivating both his musical and fashion ambitions, finding an apartment with walls, and convincing Rachel to switch to the brand of almond milk with the dancing nuts on it. His immediate plans should involve concentrating on his internship, the Gala in particular, as well as making time for his final project for his production class. He also needs to pass his Theatre History final.

Kurt isn’t looking for a boyfriend. And even if he were (which he _isn’t_ ), he’s not just going to throw himself at the first bowtie-wearing, mildly attractive boy he comes across. 

(Mercedes hasn’t asked Sam to the Gala yet, which is a subject that has already been declared off-limits.)

Kurt’s phone buzzes, and when he swipes through to twitter he sees that Marley has mentioned him in a tweet about a free concert announced for this summer. She has mentioned a few other people in the status too, Unique among them, but his eye catches on the last twitter handle. His finger hesitates, but he clicks.

*

**@blainesays**  
Student and Aspiring Musician. NYU. That small package you always heard about.

Beautiful day for music theory study group in the quad! img0130.png  
**@2ccsoftina** Looking good, Blainey Days!!! :D  
**@melsings47592** are you done with your hw for comp yet **@melodicallymarley**  
**@mmmarta** ugh don’t remind me. **@blainesays** we still on for the practice room tues? 

TMW you accidentally facebook stalk someone you maybe think is cute and almost forget to print out your essay :| #studyupblaine  
**@samwiseevans** focus up, anderson

*sings Kiss the Girl loudly and at no one in particular* #vaguetweeting  
**@samwiseevans** :|  
**@blainesays** *”NO ONE IN PARTICULAR” ;)

Met the cutest puppy in my building today! Hi, Dixon!!!!! <3 img124.png #iwantadog #missyoumilo

When cute people are maybe kind of rude. >:(  
**@2ccsoftina** :(((((

You know when you want someone to like you, but it doesn’t really seem like they do, so you decide not to like them in revenge? #pettyblaine  
**@completelyunique** you KNOW I do #allpetty  
**@realwildekitty** #pettysquad

Show tonight, and then afterparty after!! #yaynewfriends #comeseetheshow!

Made a me-puppet for my midterm project. What do you guys think? :D img0112.png  
**@sashaisfiercer** dude this is awesome!!!!!  
**@2ccsoftina** mike says he wants a mike puppet now #getatwittermike  
**@realwildekitty** he should be carrying a cronut for authenticity  
**@blainesays @realwildekitty** #rude #howdoifindaminicronut #forscience  
**@realwidekitty** idk, but we still on for workout wednesday? #somuchpizza #solittletime  
**@blainesays** wouldn’t miss it!!!

*

Mercedes “hangs out” with Sam three times over the next week. It really is just hanging out, but Kurt has taken to adding the inverted quotation marks in his head, and makes sure to get a play-by-play of each. He’s there for one, when he and Mercedes meet Sam and Blaine for nachos at a hole-in-the-wall that Sam apparently swears by, and he smiles tightly at Blaine in greeting. It’s not that Kurt doesn’t like him. Mercedes has said nothing but nice things about Blaine, and when he met with Marley and Unique for coffee they didn’t have a bad word to say between the two of them.

Not that he specifically asked. 

Actually, he has to admit (to himself, not Mercedes) that Blaine proved himself not incapable of charm or gallantry. Mercedes had been nervous at lunch that day, not really sure what Sam’s invitation meant, and it really seemed like both she and Sam had been having totally different conversations. Blaine had somehow picked up on Mercedes’ scattered comments about the weather and set her and Sam on a steady conversational track about babysitting in the summer. That led to them talking about their families, and with them wrapped up in each other, Kurt was able to better appraise the person sitting across from him in the semi-circular booth. 

Blaine had just come from stage combat class -- he’d mentioned it already -- and Kurt was willing to admit that there was something to his whole casual workout chic. His t-shirt had a large bowtie screenprinted on it, which Kurt knew from his very casual perusal of Blaine’s social media (or what he could see with his friend request in limbo) was indicative of Blaine’s tastes. 

Kurt touched his own bowtie, dark green silk and found at an estate sale in Columbus, and saw Blaine’s eyes follow the gesture. Neither of them spoke, whether because they’d gotten off on the wrong foot or because they didn’t want to draw Sam or Mercedes’ attention away from each other he wasn’t sure.

Blaine quirked his lips when he Kurt’s bowtie, and nodded only slightly, as though in approval. 

Kurt wasn’t sure he liked that. 

(He liked even less the idea that he might _actually_ like it.)

When he’s scrolling through Twitter later that night Kurt mentally replays them leaving the restaurant, Sam and Mercedes lagging behind as he and Blaine paused at the door, briefly, until Blaine stepped forward to hold the door for him.

Kurt is used to the Manhattan once-over: the quick assessment from a first meeting of a person’s character and personality, whether he wants to ever see them again. At vogue.com, and even at school, first impressions are everything. But sitting here now, reading Blaine’s evening update about the new soup at his corner deli and how exciting his day had been, Kurt is forced to consider that maybe the party, his bad day, and a hasty first impression have all led him a little astray. 

He considers the number of exclamation points in Blaine’s latest update, lets his lips quirk up, and then clicks “Follow”.

*

He gets a text from Marley inviting him to another party, this one a combination birthday party for Kitty and some neighbor of theirs. Mercedes can’t go, so Kurt thinks about politely declining (she is his strongest connection to the group after all), but Unique dismisses this concern as ridiculous. The requested present is a bottle of something, and so Kurt brings a bottle of wine Isabelle got him as part of a large gift basket for Christmas.

He’s pretty early to the party, and he and Kitty team up for the first rounds of beer pong at the tiny table. He has always been terrible at beer pong, and tonight is no exception. When he finally makes a throw Kitty cheers, then sets her birthday tiara on his head with a sunny, tipsy smile. He wanders across the hall with Marley, to the game of cards against humanity going on in the other apartment. He and Marley wedge themselves into the corner, sipping from their cups and quietly commentating on card choices. They’re close to the open pizza boxes, and the more they sip the more slices they consume. They must eat an entire pizza and a half between them, and Kurt didn’t realize how hungry he was until there was delicious tepid pizza in front of him. 

Towards the end of the first pizza the front door opens and Blaine enters, greeting everyone at once. “Sorry I’m late, guys,” he explains, taking Mike’s cards as Mike excuses himself to go to the bathroom. “I have a project due next week, and this was the only night my group could meet.” Kurt actually knows that already, because Blaine tweeted about it earlier. One of the members of his group has a particularly hectic schedule and kept having to cancel. It’s not her fault, but it’s stressed them all out about the deadline. 

The game continues, and when Mike comes back Blaine relinquishes his seat, brushing aside Mike’s protests. “I’m gonna go get a drink and see Kit,” he says, gesturing towards the door. He catches Marley’s arm for a hug as he passes, and she leans into him, smiling. “Marley Rose,” Blaine says, kissing her on the cheek. “You look like you’re having fun over here.” His eyes slide to Kurt, and although his smile doesn’t falter, there’s a short pause before he adds, “Kurt! Hey. How are you? Good to see you.”

“You too,” Kurt replies, smiling tightly. He’d like to believe it was smooth, but there was enough liquor in his cup that he’s not at all sure. “I like your tie.” 

Blaine looks surprised. “Thanks! It’s new, my brother’s girlfriend picked it out.” 

“She has great taste.”

“In ties, yes.” 

Kurt isn’t sure what that means, but Marley prods Blaine in the side, so he doesn’t have to come up with a retort. “How are you?” she asks. “I haven’t seen you around much outside of class this week.” 

“Busy week,” Blaine says with grimace. His eyes slide back to Kurt and he looks like he’s about to speak, then –

“All work and no play makes Blaine a dull boy,” Unique announces cheerfully from out of Kurt’s line of sight, and when the attention shifts to the doorway, Kurt excuses himself to go to the bathroom. 

As soon as he’s in the hallway he feels the alcohol, and without Marley and a wall to balance him it’s a little challenging to work his way through the front door towards Tina, who he can see through the open door of apartment 5B. 

“Kurt!” She leaves a conversation and pulls the door wide to lean into a hug. She smells like vodka and vanilla, and lets him pass to the bathroom on the condition that he comes right back to her. He’s beginning to suspect that Tina is an affectionate drunk. 

When he comes back, having realized he’s a little tipsier than he thought, Tina and Marley are talking to Blaine over in the tiny kitchen area, and Kurt decides it’s time for some water. 

“Good boy,” Tina is saying to Blaine, patting him on the head while he grins sheepishly and mutters something that makes the whole group laugh. He’s pulled himself up onto what little counter space there is, putting him directly next to the fridge. When Kurt grabs himself a bottle of water, the condensation makes him realize how warm the room is and he pauses, just to check he’s still balanced while his hand processes the temperature change.

“You okay?” Blaine’s voice is pitched low enough to be lost in the sound of Kitty telling a story about Tinder matches, which Kurt appreciates.

“Yes,” he says, after a long pause to check the words for truthfulness as they float around in his brain. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Nice tiara.”

Kurt studies Blaine’s face, but doesn’t find anything he can call insincerity. “Thanks.” 

To fill the silence (it isn’t silent, not really, there’s music and chatter and air conditioning and traffic, but between the two of them there’s a strange lack of noise) Kurt takes a sip from the bottle, swishes the water around in his mouth, and swallows. Blaine is still looking at him, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. 

“You made the right outfit choice,” Kurt eventually says. He doesn’t remember deciding to say it, but it’s out there now, and Blaine probably now knows that Kurt spent the portion of his commute where he had cell reception watching Blaine’s twitter meltdown over his outfit.

[ **@blainesays** Guys,I need help! :| Which shirt should I wear tonight? #blaineasks img0213.png  
**@completelyunique** right, for sure!  
**@realwildekitty** birthday girl says LEFT  
**@max0why** where did you get the blue one?  
**@2ccsoftina** YOU HAVE CREATED A RELATIONSHIP PROBLEM, BLAINE  
**@2ccsoftina** (mike says right)  
**@2ccsoftina** (mike is wrong)  
**@blainesays @completelyunique @2ccsoftina** Really? i was thinking right but then roommate said left and now i’m confused :\  
**@divamercedesj** RIGHT ]

“Thanks,” Blaine grins in reply. “I like the brooch. It’s very you.” Kurt’s first instinct is to say something like “you don’t even know me,” but that seems rude. He settles for really? instead. “Yeah.” Blaine leans against the kitchen cabinets, feet swinging a little and top button of his shirt undone. Kurt reaches out to steady himself on the fridge, and his hand almost lands on Blaine’s thigh. It doesn’t, but it’s clear from the way that Blaine follows his movements that he’s aware of the brush of Kurt’s hand against denim. Kurt checks his posture. He isn’t sloppy drunk, but even so, it’s important to remain cool and collected in the face of everything being just a little off kilter. “Look, Kurt –”

“I saw your video.”

Blaine pauses, and his eyebrows knit together. “Video?”

“The one on Youtube, of you singing for that –”

“Oh, that was a while ago, I was part of this…” He trails off, waves his drink briefly as though to sweep away the compliment, like he doesn’t think the subject will be interesting. “Anyway, thanks.” Someone brushes past Kurt to get to the fridge, and he steps forward, towards Blaine, in the tiny space. He must sway a little more than he thought, because Blaine puts out a hand to steady him, setting his drink on the counter where Tina used to be leaning. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kurt assures him. “Anyway, how’s your, ah, semester going?”

Blaine wrinkles his nose. “Oh, you know –”

“I’m heading out soon,” Tina says suddenly, giving Kurt a one armed hug. He didn’t think they were in a hugging place yet, but okay. “Text me.” This last seems to be directed at Blaine, who makes a slight face at her before he hugs her goodbye. 

“What time is it?” someone asks. 

“Twelve forty-five,” another voice responds.

Kurt checks his phone, and sure enough, he’s been here longer than he intended. “I should probably leave in a few minutes,” he says to no one in particular.

Kitty and Unique make noises of displeasure, and Blaine tilts his head. “Do you have to go far?” 

“No, I’m staying with a friend.” Kurt takes another swig of water. “Easier than getting back to Bushwick.” 

Unique joins the conversation, asking about Kurt’s rent, and another twenty minutes passes before Kurt checks the time again. When he turns to begin his goodbyes (and work his way over to the door) he stumbles slightly, and he feels a hand on his upper arm. 

“Let me help you, this tile can get slippery in the humidity,” Blaine’s voice offers. “So, where does your friend live?” 

Elliot lives conveniently close, in a room he is subletting from a guy he hooked up with his first week in New York. (Elliot once referred to it as the most serendipitous blow job he’d ever been a part of). When Kitty and Marley express concern about him getting there he brushes it off, and it’s only to appease them that Kurt agrees when Blaine says he’s going that way and they can leave together. Elliot’s is only a few blocks from where they are, but Blaine insists on calling an Uber. Kurt makes an argument about it taking longer to get there than it would to walk, but Blaine tells him he’s going to take it back to his place after, and as Kurt has no idea where that even is, he can’t really argue. 

The Uber takes a few minutes, and they linger saying goodbye until the last minute. Kitty whispers something totally inappropriate in Kurt’s ear as he returns the tiara to her slightly dishevelled head, and Kurt really hopes that Blaine didn’t hear her. 

That would be awkward, considering he doesn’t even like Blaine all that much. Or whatever. 

Before he knows it they’re in the car and crawling through a couple of construction zones to the block where Elliot lives. He’s still holding his water bottle, and as he switches hands to open the car door, telling Blaine he’ll give him cash to cover the ride next time he sees him, Blaine surprises him by getting out the other side. 

“Let me walk you up,” he says, and Kurt isn’t sure if it’s a question or not, but the stability of his legs on Elliot’s stairs is a definite potential problem. Maybe he’ll be embarrassed about this tomorrow, getting slightly sloppy drunk in front of a guy he doesn’t know all that well, but right now there’s just enough buzz in his body to be quietly pleased that someone is paying so much attention to him. 

Blaine doesn’t have to hold him up or anything, although there’s a close moment at the top of the third flight of stairs. Kurt rights himself before Blaine can grip his arm and presses himself up the final flight to knock on the door to 3A. 

There’s a long pause in which Kurt feels like he should say something. He doesn’t. 

The door swings open, Elliot’s voice carrying. “About time, you know after 1am you turn into a pumpki –” Elliot’s eyes land on Blaine as the door swings fully open. “Hello. Kurt. And friend.” 

“This is Blaine,” Kurt explains, and when he sees Elliots eyes travel up, then down, he presses him back into his apartment, ruffling his damp hair.

“Hi Blaine,” Elliot says with smile. “Would you like a drink?” He eyes Kurt leaning against the doorframe. “Or maybe some coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks, I should get going.” Blaine is smiling a little sheepishly. “Just wanted to make sure Kurt was okay.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll tuck him in and make sure he gets some water.” Elliot offers a hand. “Elliot. Nice to meet you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kurt tells Blaine, and Elliot snorts.

Kurt isn’t quite sure where that came from.

“Okay,” Blaine starts, then stops. “Well, goodnight you guys!”

After Elliot has clicked the door shut he turns to Kurt, who has crossed the tiny space that is a Manhattan living room.

“So,” Elliot says, moving a book off the couch and patting the pillows. “Tell me all about it.” 

Kurt groans but Elliot only laughs, and Kurt decides that he probably should have treked back to Bushwick after all.

*

Kurt is on his break.

He has been staring at his phone for five of his allotted ten minutes, and his computer keeps chiming with new messages in the thread Isabelle has started about table settings. 

Unique sent out a group text asking about some movie-in-the-park next month, and Kurt has been able to identify the numbers he didn’t know by their responses.

Sam responded with “cool,” Tina outlined some places they might want to eat in that part of town, and Blaine responded enthusiastically and with a couple of emojis he’s fond of using on twitter. The conversation has already devolved into an emoji war between Kitty and Blaine, with Marley and Sam occasionally chiming in. Mercedes texted him separately to ask if they should invite Rachel, who hadn’t met most of the group yet. It would be nice, they agree, to combine their friend groups a little more. 

After he responds to Mercedes he goes back to the group text, clicks on the only number he doesn’t know, and creates a new text message. 

**12:15  
Hey, Blaine, this is Kurt. I saw the Ohio area code – small world!**

**12:16  
I’m from Lima.**

**12:16  
Which you may not have heard of, idk how much time you spent there. Anyway, I wanted to say thanks for walking me home! Let me know how much the Uber was, I’m happy t**

**12:16  
… sorry, clicked send while trying to grab coffee! I am happy to buy you dinner or give you cash. And I’m grateful!**

 

_12:21  
Hi Kurt! No worries, fun hanging out with you :D Don’t worry about the Uber, I was taking one anyway! _

_12:22  
Are you going to Mike’s thing on Fri?_

Kurt knows that Tina’s boyfriend has some kind of recital on Friday, but even though Tina had invited him on Facebook, he hadn’t had any intention of going. Mike seems nice, but they’ve had one conversation. Kurt already knows he’s probably going to be working all of Saturday, between homework and all the work he and Isabelle still have to do in the next couple of weeks. He just really needs the night off. 

**12:25  
I don’t think so :(**

_12:26  
:(_

Three dots appear below Blaine’s sad face. After a few seconds they disappear.

It isn’t until later that Kurt realizes that he can’t remember exactly why he thought Blaine was so obnoxious.

*

Two days later he gets a photo with a caption.

_1:27pm_  
Hey :) You work in fashion. Could you  
please tell me which of these is a better  
birthday gift for a 47 year old man? 

Kurt looks at the picture, Blaine in what looks like Brooks Brothers holding up two sets of cufflinks. 

**1:29pm  
That depends on the man.**

_1:30pm  
My dad. _

**1:31pm  
** Well, without knowing anything about him… I like the left.  
Classic, yet sophisticated. 

_1:32pm  
I do too. Thanks!_

**1:32pm  
You’re welcome!**

When Kurt is on twitter later that night, he checks. Blaine didn’t post a #blaineasks about the cufflinks. He asked _Kurt_.

Instead of reading into that, or focusing on it in any way, he and Rachel have a Golden Girls marathon. They bicker about who is the Rose of their friends and who is the Sophia, and even though he’s stressed out about work, school, and life in general, he goes to bed with the warmth of a good day in his chest.

*

He’s buried in work for the next week, and so when Mercedes asks if he’s free for a movie night he knows she expects him to have to say no. But Isabelle calls him into her office at 5pm that day (a half day at Vogue, he’d been in class all morning), and tells him that he is going home, she is going home, and they will reconvene tomorrow rested and ready to tackle the venue’s inexplicable problems with communication. He texts Mercedes on his way out the door and she tells him to come straight over, mentioning that there are a couple of other people there, but she doesn’t list any names.

Rachel opens the door for him (a surprise, he’d thought she was at rehearsal tonight), and he sees Sam and Mercedes behind her on on the beaten-up couch, arguing over which movie to watch first. Rachel pulls him into a hug, whispering “he’s really cute!” into his ear (inasmuch as Rachel ever whispers anything). He nods in agreement – Sam is cute – and then his eyes slide past the couch to the corner of the room, where Blaine is curled up (unfairly adorably) on a beanbag.

“Kurt,” Sam yells in greeting, “tell Mercedes that Wreck-It Ralph is a great movie!”

“No way are we watching that, I watched it twice at work last week!”

“But it’s awesome!”

“You are just like Grey.” 

Rachel settles back on a cushion in front of the couch, so Kurt squeezes by her to take the available space between the couch and Blaine, who scoots over and offers him a cushion.

“I’d share the beanbag,” he smiles, “but it’d be a little cramped.”

Kurt leans against the side of the couch. “I’m good here. Hi.”

“It’s good to see you,” Blaine says, and there’s a pause before he continues, eyes flicking to where Mercedes and Sam have finally agreed on a movie. “Rachel and I have been chaperoning.” 

Kurt looks at the way Sam’s arm is curled around Mercedes’ waist while she fiddles with the remote. “Good job.”

Blaine just grins. “So, busy week?”

Kurt groans. “You have no idea.”

“Well, I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.”

The movie starts. Rachel turns the lights off, and she gives Kurt a knowing look when she sees how close he’s sitting to Blaine.

It’s about fifteen minutes in when Kurt starts to feel the week he’s had. He leans his head back against the couch, but he can’t really see that way. “Here,” Blaine whispers as a dinosaur roars on the screen. “Scoot back, and you can sit here.”

Kurt protests – Blaine had looked comfortable – but Blaine insists, and so Kurt settles in the beanbag. He feels his body relax, and Blaine’s face in the glow of the movie looks pleased. Kurt leans, scoots to whisper in Blaine’s ear. “Thank you.” He brushes a kiss to Blaine’s warm cheek. 

It’s an impulse. He doesn’t think about it at all until after, when he feels Blaine’s body freeze. He panics for a moment ( _what was that, oh god_ ) but then he feels Blaine’s hand find his, and Blaine leans into him.

“This okay?” Blaine asks, as they find a comfortable way for them to situate themselves, Blaine half-on the beanbag, half off. Kurt doesn’t answer, just wraps his arm around Blaine’s back as Blaine leans into his space. 

Over Blaine’s head he can just see the outline of Mercedes tucked up against Sam. Rachel, in the glow of a bright scene, locks eyes with him, and he thinks she winks. 

Kurt brings his attention back to the dinosaurs, the warmth of Blaine’s body pressed into his side.

*

Kurt intends to talk to Blaine about it. He has every intention of saying _something_ – he doesn’t know what, exactly – before he leaves Mercedes’. But then Mercedes asks him if he wants to sleep over, with a look that says they need to talk, and so he ends up staying for Sam-related conversations. He hugs Blaine goodbye at the door, promises they’ll talk soon, and returns to talk to Mercedes and Rachel about her developing feelings for Sam ( _well, yeah_ ) and whether she should make the next move ( _yes_ ).

He and Blaine continue texting over the next couple of days, and Kurt finds himself a little frustrated that the tone of those texts doesn’t really change, even if they’re a little more frequent. Blaine is still friendly, still sends him silly little things that make him laugh throughout the day and offers him bets on how long it will take for Sam and Mercedes to make it official. 

He wants to ask – he doesn’t know _what_ he wants to ask. They talk about their hectic schedules, Blaine talks about his roommate’s new lamp, Kurt tells the story of Rachel’s love/hate relationship with the cashier at the bakery three blocks away. Blaine invites him over under the pretext of helping him choose an outfit for his end of semester recital, and Kurt promises to find the time. To help him pick clothes, obviously. Because that is what Blaine needs.

So Kurt is on Blaine’s couch by 8pm on Thursday night, Blaine’s tongue in his mouth and Kurt’s hands sneaking up Blaine’s unbuttoned dress shirt to paw at the hem of his undershirt. There are bowties fanned out across the back of the couch. Blaine’s weight is pressed into him from above, a little too warm for the spring evening. Blaine’s apartment is Manhattan student chic, meaning that the space they have on the couch is pretty much all the space there is in the tiny living area. Kurt accidentally smacks the wall as he shifts to pull Blaine closer, and Blaine makes a frustrated sound when he can’t keep his hands on Kurt’s body, pressed too close against him.  
Kurt has no idea how long they’ve been doing this, but he came here straight after work and the sun is beginning to set, so allowing for clothes-related conversations, probably just over an hour. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s hungry and thirsty (Santana’s voice cackles in his head), and if he doesn’t put some distance between himself and Blaine’s skin, he doesn’t know how he’ll ever stop.

Blaine makes an unhappy noise when he pulls away, and when Blaine’s mouth follows his he has to force himself to switch to short, soothing kisses to ease the separation. When Blaine finally sits back onto his knees, Kurt’s legs awkwardly splayed around him, he looks like he’s trying to bite down what wants to be a smile.

“So,” Kurt starts, then stops.

“This was nice?” Blaine offers. “I mean, yes. This was really nice. I’m glad you came. I mean –”

“I know what you mean,” Kurt says quickly, pulling his legs to him. “And yeah, I really enjoyed…”

“Me too,” Blaine adds, and Kurt feels the heat of the room. He’s also pretty sure that Blaine’s shirt is now missing a button. He looks around, sees it a few feet away near the front door. “I was wondering if you’d like to… oh, you’re going.”

“No, I –” Kurt holds up the button. “I was just – you were saying…”

Blaine looks relieved, then nervous again. “I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner. With me.”

“Tonight?”

“Sure!” Blaine smiles. “Also another time, maybe, too. Like, as a date?”

Kurt breathes. “I’d like that.”

*

And then it all almost stops before it begins.

It starts with Mercedes and Sam (as did, really, this whole thing). 

Kurt isn’t one hundred percent clear on the details. All he knows is that two days after Blaine asked him out Mercedes is at his apartment with a cheesecake (for him) and ice cream cake (for her and perhaps Rachel, if she’s feeling generous). This food is accompanied by a request that they watch something funny.

Over the course of the first thirty minutes of Clueless, they extract from her that firstly, Sam had met her for lunch at a diner near where she picks up the kids from school. Secondly, Sam said or did something that has Mercedes pretty convinced she’s moved from “possibly-not-single-soon” back firmly into the sea where plenty of fish reside. 

He gets a text from Blaine about an hour into the movie that is just a string of question marks. He ignores it.

Blaine calls him about ten minutes later. This is new, they don’t talk on the phone, and so Kurt swallows his misgivings and ducks into his bedroom, hoping the privacy curtain actually provides some muffling. 

“Hello?”

“Kurt, hey, hi.” 

“Hi, Blaine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I – I just wanted to say hi, and, uh… have you, maybe, talked to Mercedes today?”

“Actually, I –”

“Because you might want to call Mercedes.”

Kurt looks up at the ceiling, where dust has settled on their seldom-cleaned exposed beams, and sits on the edge of his bed. “She’s actually here right now. We’re watching a movie.”

“Oh, I –” Blaine’s voice is muffled, like he’s trying not to be heard. “I think Sam and Mercedes had a fight.”

Kurt resists the temptation to roll his eyes (Blaine would never know), but just barely. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I don’t know what it was about, but… Sam’s pretty upset.”

Kurt bristles, even though there’s nothing resembling blame in Blaine’s voice. “So is Mercedes.”

There’s a long pause. “Yeah. I was just – I was worried. About you, and –”

“Blaine, are you okay?”

“What, yeah, I’m fine.” 

Kurt hears an unsteadiness in his voice, and it’s really early for them, they aren’t even anything official yet, but – “Can you switch to video chat?” 

“Sure.” 

There’s a shuffling sound, and when Kurt’s video feed clears he can see that Blaine is in a bathroom, judging by the tiled wall. He’s never seen it before, but he’s more preoccupied with Blaine, probably sitting on the edge of the tub and looking slightly forlorn. “What’s wrong?”

He can’t see much, but he noticed Blaine’s free hand rubbing through his hair. “Nothing, I just. Hi, it’s good to see you.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Sam’s.” He tilts his head in a direction that must indicate more of the apartment. “He asked me to come over.” 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I –” Blaine’s shoulders deflate after a pause. “No, I’m – I’m worried about Sam, and Mercedes, and then I thought that you’re Mercedes’ best friend, and if they break up –” 

“If they break up…” Kurt echoes the phrase, sees Blaine glance down, off frame, and then shrug. 

“I just, I’m excited for our date.” Blaine’s smile is real, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Seeing him there, worried on his screen, Kurt has a moment. He’s had them before, moments where he wants to reach out and hold Blaine. That’s why he’d kissed him on the cheek, paused after because once he’d done that, it felt right to think about doing more. But in this moment, it isn’t a kiss he wants. He wants to just touch Blaine, feel him solidly in front of him as he says into his phone: “Blaine, I’m excited too. So excited, you have no idea.” 

It isn’t everything he means to say, but it might be enough, because Blaine’s smile spreads to his eyes this time. “Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kurt allows himself a chin-tilt. “I have my outfit picked out, and there’s a pizza place I want to try, Santana recommended it, but don’t worry, I looked it up on Yelp too.” 

“I love pizza.”

“I know. You posted a selfie with some last week.” 

Blaine’s eyes crinkle. “You follow my Instagram?”

“Maybe.” Blaine makes a humming noise in response, and Kurt hears Rachel call his name from outside the curtain. “Listen, I have to go do relationship triage, but here’s the thing: this is Mercedes and Sam. We’re you and me, okay?”

Blaine nods. “Okay, yeah, I – thanks. It’s been a stressful week, you know.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Keep me updated.” 

“I will.” Blaine waves, then ends the call. Kurt strokes his screen with a thumb, smudging the sweat from his brow with fresh fingerprints, then stands up, pulls the curtain back, and asks Rachel to pass the ice-cream cake.

*

Blaine asks Kurt if he’s free the following Thursday night, and a plan for their first date is formed. Kurt is debating between suggesting a couple of restaurants or letting Blaine pick, but before they can even get that far he gets a text from Mercedes. She wants to know if he’s free Thursday, because she and Sam want Kurt and Blaine to double date.

It’s not ideal. He actually discusses it with Blaine, after sending a couple of probing texts to Mercedes about what’s going on with Sam (as the last he heard they’d called the whole thing off). They ultimately agree that although they’d sort of like their first date to be solo, they want to be there for Mercedes and Sam, and they’ll always have another chance. 

“It might even be fun,” Blaine enthuses.

It’s awkward as hell. 

Kurt and Blaine try to carry the conversation, but it really seems like Mercedes is uncomfortable, and judging from Blaine’s glances at Sam, Kurt assumes he’s noticing the same. They aren’t arguing, but they aren’t really talking either, and Kurt can’t tell what the glances all mean. It’s frustrating, and awkward, but he’s glad to have Blaine there, pressing their knees together under the table. 

Halfway through the entrees (pasta that Kurt thinks is undercooked, but Blaine is raving about the sauce), Mercedes excuses herself from the table. Sam chats with Kurt for a moment, then his phone buzzes, and he excuses himself. 

Kurt watches Sam’s retreating form. “Is he _leaving_?”

Blaine furrows his eyebrows. “No, I’m sure he’s just taking a call –”

“If we can sit here through this awkwardness, they definitely…” Kurt trails off at Blaine’s soothing hand on his arm. “Sorry, it’s just so –”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks chagrined. “I’m sorry I talked you into this.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to come.” Kurt touches Blaine’s hand briefly. “Maybe I should go talk to Mercedes. This whole thing…” 

“Just don’t leave,” Blaine asks, and although he’s clearly kidding, Kurt can also see a slight hint of panic. 

“Of course I’m not leaving,” Kurt replies, folding his napkin and standing. “They have cheesecake here.” 

He can hear Blaine’s laugh as he crosses towards the restrooms, which are off in a small hallway. He sees a flash of purple as he rounds the corner, and Mercedes is wearing a purple dress, so he starts. “Mercedes, are you –”

He stops cold.

Mercedes is there, in her purple dress, but so is Sam. She currently has him pressed up against the wall, her arms wrapped around his neck. 

Everything is PG-13, but there are definite signs of making out, and when Mercedes pulls back her lipstick is smudged all over Sam’s mouth.

Kurt raises a single eyebrow at Mercedes, who reminds him why he is friends with her when she blinks back at him and says, “oh, hey, Kurt.” 

“We were just on our way back,” Sam explains.

“I thought you two –” Kurt starts. 

“Oh, we worked that out,” Mercedes says breezily, making her way back over to the table.

Sam looks sheepish, but follows.

By the time Kurt sits back down, Mercedes and Sam are engaged in a heated debate about a new album due out this month, and Mercedes is appealing to Blaine to settle the matter. They are all laughing. Blaine shoots Kurt a confused look, and Kurt waves a hand in the international signal for “I have no idea.” 

He’ll get the story later. Right now he eats another forkful of his dinner and takes Blaine’s hand under the table.

Maybe the pasta isn’t so bad after all.

*

“You didn’t like me very much, did you?” Blaine says this through a mouthful of deep dish pizza. It is their second “date,” but the first had turned into a double date with Mercedes and Sam.

“Hmmm?” Kurt hopes his answer is sufficiently non-committal.

Blaine swallows, and then repeats himself sheepishly. 

“I didn’t _not_ like you,” Kurt says, and Blaine gives him a look. 

“You were a little rude,” Blaine says, “when I corrected you about Sondheim.” Kurt wants to bristle at the reminder, but really does not have the energy to be offended by someone who has a mushroom stuck to his cheek despite the fact he has been using a knife and fork. “I’m not saying it’s bad,” Blaine continues, his voice softening. He nudges Kurt’s foot under the table (Kurt does not comment on how expensive his pants were, which he is very proud of). “I think you find me okay now, and even if you don’t…” He shrugs, picking the mushroom off his cheek and popping it in his mouth. “Hate makeouts are a thing.”

Kurt gives him a look right back, but nudges him back. “I guess you’re okay. And I’m willing to admit that I may have judged you too harshly at first.”

“That sounds like a Rachel phrase.”

It _is_ a Rachel phrase, but Kurt doesn’t need to own up to that. “Good pizza?”

“Mmm. Yours?” He gestures to Kurt’s empty plate. 

Kurt had inhaled his pizza, and he knows it, but he’s becoming too preoccupied with the idea of another slice to really care. “I think I’m gonna try the veggie.” 

“Get it deep dish, it’s amazing.” 

“What kind of New Yorker are you?”

“The kind who comes from Ohio and likes deep dish pizza?” Blaine’s smile is so charming that Kurt can’t even call him out on the snark. It’s pretty strange how Blaine’s sincerity -- which Kurt once found entirely annoying -- now gives him the strange, fluttery feeling when it’s directed at him.

He opens his mouth, not quite sure what he’s going to say until it’s halfway out of his mouth. Blaine pauses, glass in hand and condensation dripping onto the table. There’s a neon sign across the street, and even in the light of the pizzeria’s lamps he can see it refracting through the window onto Blaine’s face. Blaine is looking at him, face open and curious to hear what he’s going to say. “It’s funny how someone can seem like something…” 

Blaine puts down his glass, still meeting Kurt’s eye. “...and be something else entirely.” 

Kurt walks Blaine to his apartment, hand-waving Blaine’s protests that it’s a subway stop out of his way. When they get to his door there’s a pause in conversation. Blaine laughs, brings a hand to Kurt’s jacket lapel and smooths it. “Thanks for dinner,” he says, leaning into Kurt’s space for a kiss, hand still clutching the lapel. 

Everything about the kiss is soft, from Blaine’s other hand resting lightly on Kurt’s jaw to the gentleness of Blaine’s lips opening on his. Blaine pulls away after a moment and steps back, leaving Kurt blinking at him while his lips feel the ghost of pressure.

“You’re welcome.,” Kurt says, as Blaine pulls his keys out. Then, on impulse: “I’m glad I got to know you.”

Blaine turns his head back to Kurt. “Yeah?”

“You were kind of…” Kurt trails off.

“Kind of what?” Blaine asks, and his hand fiddles with his untied bowtie, loose as his smile. 

Kurt thinks. “A challenge,” he decides. “I was in a bad mood, and I…” He’s hoping that Blaine will let him trail off, or even offer a word that doesn’t sound all that bad, but Blaine waits him out, watching his face. “I like you.” Kurt wants to make it a shrug, but forces himself to let Blaine hear it.

And hear it he does. If Kurt’s been basking in Blaine’s small smiles all night, it’s nothing next to the one that greets him then, as Blaine leaves his key in the lock and hops over to kiss Kurt one more time. “I like you too.”

Kurt realizes as he falls back into his pillow that night that he’d probably even eat deep-dish pizza for this boy. And any number of other things that Blaine might ask of him.

Especially, Kurt thinks as his eyes begin to flutter shut, a third date.

*

_Sometime Later..._

Kurt wakes up first, hungry and in serious need of a cup of coffee (and probably a shower). Blaine is looking at him sleepily across the pillow, the totally inadequate blinds doing wonders for the light around his face. “I totally should have hit on you at that first cast party,” Blaine says. “We could have been doing this way sooner.”

“What kind of boy do you think I am?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

Kurt pokes him through a layer of blanket, then shrugs. “I thought you had a crush on Sam.”

Blaine makes a face and laughs. “What? No. I mean, maybe when I first met him, for a minute. But... no.” He laughs again, as though the absurdity hits him anew whenever it crosses his mind. 

It’s a really great laugh, Kurt thinks to himself. Bright, and loose, a little hoarse from sleep.  
Kurt lets his hand skim the visible skin of the wrist supporting Blaine’s head. “Yeah, I don’t know if I would have been as charmed by you back then.”

“I think Blaine is very charming!” Rachel offers from outside the dividing curtain. Kurt sits up, ready to deliver a reminder-lecture about boundaries (both physical and metaphorical).

Blaine snickers into his pillow. “Thanks, Rach!” 

Kurt snorts, his annoyance melting away as Blaine pulls him back down. They discuss their plans to meet Mercedes and Sam for brunch. Kurt eventually gets ready to shower, thinking about using the last of the almond milk (the one with the dancing nuts, a long fought battle), while Blaine opts to stay in bed, pulling the book he’s reading from the bedside table. 

Kurt nudges the bed as he grabs socks. Blaine looks up from his book and smiles.

Kurt knows, in a way that he can’t explain, that one day this will be their life. They’ll wake in a bed that is theirs, in an apartment that is theirs, and instead of meeting Mercedes and Sam on a double date they’ll be talking about planning a wedding (either Kurt and Blaine’s or, knowing the way their friends are going, perhaps theirs). That time might not be all that soon, there’s a newness, still, to their relationship that Kurt loves, but knows (hopes) will wane with time. 

He’s willing to wait.

*

_Sometime after that…_

 **@blainesays**  
Musician. Actor. Husband. NYC. That small package you always heard about.


End file.
